


Temptation Unknown

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Post-Sirius in Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2004-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.  Friends forever, and presumably straight.  Aren't they?  Or are they?  Sirius takes it into his own hands post- GoF to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Thought and Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

TITLE: Temptation Unknown

AUTHOR: Maple Tide

E-MAIL: mapletide@fastmail.fm

DISCLAIMER: The characters involved that are from the Harry Potter universe are the property of J. K. Rowling and all associated publishers (including Scholastic Press, Bloomsburg, and Raincoast). I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes. The plot involved, any stray characters that may crop up, and any other things that don't belong to her belong to me. I'm not seeking to make any money off of this; rather I'm going it for fun and for the chance to get it out of my own imagination before it drives me even more insane. Understood? =) Good.

RATING: PG-13 right now, but it will be NC-17

CATEGORY: Slash Romance, Angst

KEYWORDS: Remus/Sirius

SPOILERS: PoA, GoF

ARCHIVE: Azkaban's Lair can have this one, I think, and my website, and fandomination.net probably.

FEEDBACK: Please? I can be reached at mapletide@fastmail.fm

SUMMARY: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Friends forever, and presumably straight. Aren't they? Or are they? Sirius takes it into his own hands post- GoF to find out.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, first of all, this is my answer to the straightness challenge, and it's probably going to be three parts, and at first I wasn't even going to answer the bloody thing because every idea I thought of, my muses cast aside and went psychotic on me, so it didn't seem like a good idea.

Then this thing hit, and here we go. It's like an extreme alterate universe to my Moonlight and Shadow universe that I'm working on, so the characters existing within it are the same, but doing different things, and the relationships are different. Oh, and like I said, it should be three parts, but I haven't written the other two yet, so we'll see.

**~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

Part I: Of Thought and Memory

I look up at him, where he's been standing in the doorway of the house - the house he had been living in alone presumably since Rhiannon fled from him so long ago for not telling him the truth about who and what he was. Too many memories have been flooding my mind about he and I and the time we had spent together over the years. I sigh, and then I try again to convince him.

"Moony, just think about it. We don't have forever, we just have the chances Merlin sends us. I've told you how I feel, what I want, what I think. I just need an answer."

"And I need time to think," was all he said before walking out into the rain, closing the door behind him with a firm click.

At that, I buried my face in my hands, still coarse and sore from my run here, and thought about what had brought me to this point. Dumbledore had sent me to the old crowd, and then to Remus to tell him of what had happened, and to give me a place to be. It was where I wanted to go, after all the time I had to think, and not for just this reason. The other reason, that I had unveiled to him today, that I wanted him, that I wanted to kiss him, and that I thought I was in love with him. At that thought, I looked up at the closed door and snorted softly; I could see how well **that** had gone.

I wanted to go for this, but at the same time, I keep remembering that other than James, I think Remus had to have been my best mate ever. We've been through so much.

As I sit here, and think, I find myself remembering all the things we've done, we've been through. These are memories that, for the longest time, were lost to me. They were stolen in Azkaban and over the year I spent wandering, they came back to me, one by one. The best things in my life, the best people, and the insanity that came with being one of the Marauders of Gryffindor.

We met well, in Flourish and Blotts, where he was pretending to be the little fae thing that would attract all the girls in later years, only not realising it quite yet. He was standing there, reading a book, and James and I were talking and nearly ran him over. Peter joined us later, much later, and at first, it was only the three of us, the terrors of Diagon Alley, and the Hogwarts Express. It was after the sorting that Peter joined us, and he didn't seem quite the type at first.

Maybe we should have known then. But we were all so young, just kids, and we didn't know any better.

I remember that, and all the reading we did. James and Peter and I during those nights of the full moon where Remus was gone. Supposedly visiting kin or being sick or some other thing that would bring him away from us, and he would look scared and almost ill the closer it came. It was easy to believe of him the complaints of illness, and later, he would be fine. There was the never- handling of silver, the intense hearing, the everything that seemed to point to the inevitable conclusion.

Werewolf. Our best friend in the world was a werewolf. The thought was terrifying, terrifying to all of us, but Peter especially. For me, there was the knowledge that yes, he probably could hurt me, but I was more afraid for him. I knew all too well how the wizarding culture treated werewolves, and he was kind and loving and gentle, and he deserved better. I knew that even then.

So we confronted him, and he tried to flee, but he underestimated us. James and I stopped him, and we finally convinced him after the better part of a weekend that there was no leaving him. We weren't about that. We did a blood binding ceremony that Sunday. Peter chickened out in the end, but it was me and Remus, and James. Always.

So of course, Remus had to be the the first among us to have a real kiss. It was fourth year, Peter was trying desperately to complete the Potions assignment that James and I had finished hours earlier while he and I challenged each other to a game of chess. With us, or with one of us and Remus, it was a fair match, and interesting. In regards to Peter, well, it seemed like poor sport.

James and I had just groaned as the chess match came to yet another stalemate, and I was going to challenge him to another to break this stalemate when we heard the portrait hole opened, and all three of us turned to look upon Remus as he stood there, hair mussed, glitter all over his face, and what suspiciously looked like a faint brushing of the wizarding lipstick that most of the witches in the school had taken to wearing.

We were gathered around him all in an instant, trying to get the details of what had happened out of him. He laughed and informed us all that we were worse than a gaggle of witches. Then he had told us about that kiss he had shared with Lisa Devin of Ravenclaw. I remember so clearly how amazed we all were, and we were all talking about it - or him talking and us listening and asking questions -until classes started the next morning. Sweet Merlin, had that been a rough day for all of us. Almost worse than the full moons were after we all became Animagi to help Remus. Almost.

The memory came next was one that had haunted me in part during my time in Azkaban. The time when I gave away to Snape Remus' location in a fit of rage that he wouldn't allow me escape from. As a result of that, James and Peter ceased talking to me for about six months, and I was left only with the company of the one I betrayed, who possibly had the best reaction of all of them.

It was the oddest thing. I expected Remus to be the angriest, but he was actually the calmest. He was angry with me for about a month, himself, and honestly, I couldn't understand how he could bear to be around me. When we talked about it later, he had wanted to find out what would drive someone he thought of as a friend to give away a secret that he had sworn to keep. I understood that then, as well as now, so I let him examine me as though I was something he was going to put into a Potion, and was asking Merlin to let it not explode and kill him.

That was when I really got to know him even more than prior, when it was just he and I. James and Peter avoided us on principal alone, which made no sense at all to Remus' logical mind, no matter how many times I tried to explain it to him. Finally we both gave up trying to understand the circumstances and enjoyed the time, exploring the castle enough to finish the map on our own. I still think it was only the map that brought us all back together again.

It wasn't long after that when we found something out about the two we had spent long hours talking about our attractions to. For me, it was Hope Foster from Ravenclaw House, for him, it was Dariele Sanchez of Gryffindor. Come to think of it, I can understand the attraction. She was wild, crazy, and could nearly have been a Marauder herself, or outdone us all. Hope was the same, and James ended up with Lily, who **did** give us some of the best ideas we've had yet.

Yet, that illusion had been shattered when during sixth year, we were battling Ravenclaw for the cup for the third year running. At the end of the game that Ravenclaw won, 265-60, Sanchez leapt off her broom and met Foster at the end of the pitch. She told her what a marvelous game it had been, and how Gryffindor would have won for sure if it hadn't been for her skills as Keeper, and then she bent down and kissed her. She **kissed** her, and worst of all, Hope kissed back.

There went those dreams. I had grabbed Remus by the arm, as he stood there, staring in absolute shock at it, and dragged him back to the castle. We slipped into Hogsmeade from there, and got as drunk as we could on butterbeer, and bemoaned our fate to fall in love with two witches that were in love with each other.

Another memory struck me, and I flinched at it. It was about three months after the incident where Remus and I had found that those we fancied truly fancied one another, and it so happened that he and James walked in to find me sharing breath with Lily Evans. This was before Prongsy had gotten the nerve to tell Ms. Evans how he felt, and she had grabbed me by the neck of my robes and pulled me up out of the chair I had been relaxing in, and demanded with glittering, mischievous green eyes flashing to kiss her. So I had, and so James had walked in, pulled me away from her, and decked me.

When I woke up, Remus was leaning over me, laughing. He helped me up, and explained that the dear Ms. Evans had set up that kiss in order to get James' attention. I grumbled and groused that it had definitely done that, but I couldn't say how much I truly regretted it when they finally came back down. After all, Remus and I got some marvelous mileage out of the fact that it took that much to convince James that he really loved the chit.

There are memories involving Peter, too, who couldn't seem to find one person he fancied enough - or who fancied him enough - to stay with him. While Remus, James, and I dated a couple of people, but mostly focussed on our friendship with each other, classes, and exploring the castle as much as possible, Peter was always dating. It was said that he had worked his way through Hufflepuff House by the time we left Hogwarts, and was possibly working on trying to work through Ravenclaw as well. Yet, despite those memories being there, I don't like to dwell on them, knowing as I do of what Peter became.

I growl softly and put those memories aside as far as possible. I need to think about this, and those memories are nothing but a distraction.

Finally, after long moments of thinking about it, I find the memory I was sorting through the whole mass for. The one memory concerning Remus that led me to this point, and I let out a sigh, leaning my head against the sofa and watch the rain fall, wondering where he is. I feel bloody awful for having the conversation with him now that it's raining, and now he's wandering around in it, possibly thinking about the same things I'm thinking about.

The memory that tugs at my mind was after Hogwarts, after Peter started becoming somewhat distant, but before James and Lily wed, before I started trying to date Lita DiSalvo, and Remus moved out of the flat upon his engagement to Rhiannon McKinnon. Actually, the more I think about it, it was at the party we threw for Prongs, claiming that if they were going to have a more-or-less Muggle wedding, they were going to have all the trappings, all the tradition.

That included the bachelor party.

For years afterwards, I had groaned just thinking about it. How we had hired dancers and had drinks and food, and more drinks, and had planned everything to the finest degree, and then had it all go to hell. It turned out that the dancers were not the entertainment, and instead, he and I ended up being the entertainment. Remus and I who had had far too much of the strongest drinks, and the entire party had centred on what had happened after we had gotten so drunk we couldn't think straight.

Somehow, in my drunkeness, I thought it was the best idea I'd had yet to ask Remus to dance to the music playing in the background. He arched his eyebrows at me as if he thought I was mad, and I insisted. I think they probably have names for drunks like me. Insane, stupid drunks, maybe. Finally, though, he assented to my insanity, and all of the wizards we had invited for James had gawked at us as we had slow-danced to some song.

Looking back on it, I find it to be simply the most bizarre experience of my life, and yet, the most right one at the same time.

Yet, their gawking did not stop there. For after the dance was over, Remus leaned in and kissed me full upon the lips. At first, I startled in shock, but then allowed him to deepen the kiss, and I kissed back. At the time, I was surprised most of all not by the fact that he was kissing me, but by the fact that I enjoyed it. That I wanted to spend the night snogging him and possibly even shagging him, instead of what we were supposed to be doing.

That thought was like a douse of ice water over me, and I pulled out of the kiss. Remus first looked hurt, then shocked and appalled at what he had done. It was even worse, after the entire congregation of drunken wizards howled with laughter, all except James. He was looking at us as if we had each grown two extra heads each a long while ago, and he was only now noticing.

After that moment, Remus fled, and I had no idea **what** to do. So I stood there and let them laugh at me. Finally, I dropped into a chair near James and he asked me what had just happened. I confided that I had not the slightest idea, and that the amount we had to drink probably had something to do with it. He accepted that from me, and even more when Remus came back in and said almost the same thing I did, as though we shared a brain for that moment. He sat down next to me and after a few awkward moments, it was back to him and me and James as usual, even if James did keep staring at us curiously the remainder of evening.

I just wonder. I really wonder whether what I started tonight goes back to then, or goes back further. Was I really attracted to him all those years and just denied it because it was something my own mind considered impossible. Did he return it, and I never knew? I let out a soft groan at all the questions this soulsearching was putting me through. I just had to know, but at the same time, it wasn't something I **could** know.

At the time, I never took the chance, the opportunity to find out. I fled from the memory of that night, and Remus and I just went back to being best mates and flatmates. He continued dating Rhiannon McKinnon as though nothing had happened, and I continued going after Lita. Six months after James and Lily's wedding, Rhiannon and Remus announced their engagement to all of their friends, and I was genuinely happy for them both. Remus, especially, because after everything, and around the darkness that was going on at the time.

Then Harry was born, and I was made godfather. Shortly after that, Remus came out to Rhiannon what he was, and she slapped him, screamed, fled, and most importantly called off the engagement. He came home, and I fetched the bottle of Firewhiskey, and we got so pissed I couldn't think and he couldn't do anything but rant nonsensically. The thought crossed my mind at the time to kiss him into silence, but I shook my head.

Why did these things only occur to me when I was drunk off my arse?

After that night, I withdrew from him, and he withdrew from all of us. It was the worst of times, the very worst of times. Peter had come back into the fold, and at the time, it should have been obvious, so very obvious, who the spy was, but none of us were thinking. We welcomed him back before we got word of there being a spy among us. Remus suspected me, I know now, even as I suspected him, and none of us suspected Peter.

Just thinking about it makes me angry enough to go kill something. Preferably him, after all that he's done.

After that, there was that night in 1981, and afterwards, twelve years of nothing, and of knowing. I knew then what I hadn't known before, and I had to let it be known, but I had to find a way to think beyond the pain and suffering of Azkaban, and find a way out . Then there was the paper, and the knowledge that nearly drove me mad while providing me with enough sanity to think.

Then seeing Remus again, and having a year to think. To really think, and remember all the things we've been to each other.

So I came here with more than the news of Voldemort's rise and Harry's near- death, and the seeing of James, and Lily and everything in between. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to ask if he wouldn't give it all a chance, that maybe there was something there that we'd been denying for years and years. We might not have long to live, despite our young age, for there's another war coming. Another war, another time when we might die, and I don't want to die without giving this a chance.

With determination, I rise from the chair and cross the room to the door. Rain or not, I'm going to find him, and I'm going to tell him.

Everything.

**~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

~end part 1~


	2. Rain and Conversation

Part II: Rain and Conversation

Somehow, when I made my decision to go out after him, Merlin and the gods he worshipped decided to choose that moment to make the harshest, hardest rain of the entire storm come pelting from the sky. No matter how much I attempted to shield myself, I was soaked to the skin within little more than an instant, making any further attempt to keep myself dry a futile waste of energy. So I didn't care and went about my search for him.

Perhaps it should have surprised me how quickly I found him, but we had always had an uncanny way of knowing exactly where the other was. On legs that he had often teased in our youth that I had never had the chance to grow into, I found my way to the small shed that he kept for the sole purpose for transforming every month. I had noticed before, in the span of days that I had been here before risking my ego and the rejection on this impulsive chance, that it was warded with layer upon layer of spells. When I asked, he answered almost too easily that that's where he had been doing the transformations without the aid of the Wolfsbane potion to control the wolf.

He and I both knew the danger of that; he had confided to me that the only reason the wolf had attacked a fellow packmate was the fact that he was confined the entire year, kept too weak to battle him for control of the body they shared. Hence, at the first opportunity, he lashed out at the first he could find, no matter whether the one he found was responsible or not. I had been there, a convenient target, and Remus suspected that the wolf knew no regrets whatsoever. I wasn't so certain, but I bowed to my friend's greater knowledge, borne from a lifetime of sharing with that wolf who controlled his body over the length of the full moon.

I crossed the yard swiftly, knowing there were risks in searching for him in human form, like this, but I doubted that the Aurors would be looking for me there, in the pouring rain. The danger was there, but I was never one to let danger prevent me from a goal. Particularly when the goal at hand was a possible lover, or a definite friend. I didn't know how I felt entirely about that yet, but I had had plenty of time to think on it, and it was time. It had long since been time.

Before even I reached the shed, the door was open, and the form of an utterly dry Remus Lupin was looking out at me. The look on his face was indecipherable, and I couldn't tell whether I had made the right decision by coming after him. I slowed as I neared it, and slowly, a smile lifted his lips. He reached out and pulled me in, with a gravelly comment of "Gods, Padfoot, you're soaked to the skin."

"I noticed," I told him, and resisted the Padfoot-ingrained temptation to shake the water from my skin, clothes and hair.

Either he was once again reading my mind as he had almost seemed able to do when we were younger or he knew me too well, but he shook his head at me and reached for the wand of oak and unicorn hair that was tucked up the sleeve of his robes. The motion reminded me, oddly enough, of the long conversations comparing the lengths of our wands to the lengths of our other wands, and wondering if it meant anything. In the end we had decided not, but I stifled a snort at the thought.

"Don't. Just don't," he told me, then performed a Drying Charm on the clothes and my hair. Both were still a little damp when he was done, and had tucked his wand back into the sleeve of his robes. I sighed and resisted a nervous tick, purely my own, of running my hand through my hair. It was long now, and needed to be cut again, I knew, but there was nothing to be done about it for the moment.

"Why did you come find me?" he asked me.

"I needed to talk to you. Really talk to you and explain things and where my mind was when I asked you."

"When you asked me if I would mind if you kissed me, you mean?" he asked, and that indecipherable look was back on his face. He shook his head and sat down next to me before turning to look at me, and asked me quietly, as his wont, "Sirius, why now?"

I blinked at him, and then I told him, "All the memories, all of the everything of you and me together always indicated that we'd be best mates forever. I mean, we swore to it, did we not?"

As close as we were sitting, he could see the scar at the base of my right hand with ease, and he had a matching one. I remember being twelve, full of bravado, and yet scared to death when I did that, when I suggested that. It was Remus' blade, and Peter was standing in the background. The magic shut him out the longer the ritual went on, and I shouldn't be surprised that we didn't see things sooner, but I still am.

"That doesn't explain this. That doesn't explain what you confessed to me earlier."

"I'm tired of running, Remus. If I realised that I wanted you when we were younger, then I thought it someting wholly unnatural. Something that went against my own nature. As far as I knew, the only people attracted to those of their own gender were Foster and Sanchez."

"Did you just realise at the bachelor party?"

"I don't even know if I realised it then. I thought I was drunk and being crazy and stupid."

Remus laughed then, a lighthearted laugh I hadn't heard from him in years, "You **were** being crazy and stupid, Padfoot. That's part of who you are. I'd recommend you being committed to Saint Mungos if you weren't being that. Being drunk had nothing to do with it."

I pouted at him, and flashed at him eyes projecting the injury that he had dealt to my pride. As he would never had believed the expression at school, he didn't believe it now. Instead, he just shook his head at me, and the sight of that brought a smile to my lips.

"What would you have done, Padfoot, had I told you that I wanted you when we were in school?"

The question caught me aback, and I just blinked at him. He met my gaze steadily and just waited with the patience that defined him from nearly the moment I first met him for the response. It took me another moment to find what I was going to say to him. "I don't know, Remus. I like to think that I would have pounced on you then, but I cannot say that for certain."

"I think I know what you would have done, actually."

"Enlighten me, then," I told him in a drawl.

"You would have done what you did anyway. You would deny to yourself that you felt anything for one of your closest friends, then you would have panicked, ran, and most likely never have spoken to me again. I treasured your friendship, and didn't wish to jeopardise it for reasons such as a simple attraction. So I enjoyed your friendship, and went after some of the others I wanted."

"So I was one among many?"

There was the tug of a smile at his lips. "I wouldn't say that. I was very selective about who I wished to share my company and most especially, intimacy with. In many ways, those lesser relationships never matched the intensity of the friendship I had with you and James."

"What about Peter?" I couldn't help but ask out of my own morbid curiosity.

He was silent for a long moment and then when he responded, his voice was tinged with a bitterness that I knew all too well, "What about him?"

"There was more than just me and you and Jamie."

"I know. It's just hard to see him as the friend I thought he was then, knowing what I do now. At the time, he was an unknown, and the wolf wasn't altogether comfortable with him. However, I thought I was, and he was the fourth member of our little pack together. He was afraid more often than I would have thought a Gryffindor of. Well, not that he was afraid, but the fact that he couldn't act beyond that fear. I just keep thinking that if I had remembered you, and how you were, and compared it to him, and how he was, I would have known the truth. But it's hard to know, and the situation was different."

I sighed, then nodded. There was almost too much truth in the statement he made, but it was truth, and I saw no reason to argue with him over it. Then he continued.

"In some ways, I think it's easier this way."

"What?" I was shocked. "Had there been a trial, Padfoot--"

"There wasn't," I responded flatly. "I know there wasn't."

"I know that as well," he emphasized gently, but I felt somehow more chastised by the simple statement than if he had put more emphasis upon it. I sighed before giving up the battle against myself and ran a hand through the still-damp hair as I waited for him to continue. He didn't keep me waiting long. "I am saying that if there had been, it is for the best that we were nothing more than friends."

"Why?"

"They would have forced me to repudiate you. They would have shoved me to the breaking point, and then over the edge. You know how ruthless the Ministry was at that time; you worked for them, after all. They would have shoved the facts into my face, over and again, asking how I could bear to know that someone I loved was capable of the murders that you had committed, asking how I could bear to know that someone I loved was capable of betraying the very people he had sworn over and again to protect. However, since there was no trial, and I was only your last living friend, I could slip quietly into hiding, and merely worry the questions over in my mind while they danced in the streets, declaring the enemy vanquished and no more need for worry at all."

I was no longer an Auror, but there had been a time when I had been, and knew the extent to which they had gone. They had been allowed use of the Unforgivables, and that was shortly before everything had gone so horribly wrong. There had been colleagues of mine who thought nothing about using that power to casually torture information out of people they even thought could lead them to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It had disgusted me at the time, and now, it only made me more ill and oddly glad that I could no longer be counted among them.

"Do you know," he started the conversation again after a moment's silence that hung between us, "you never truly answered my question."

"Which?"

"As to when you really realised that you might want me as a lover. And, Merlin help me, Sirius, if you tell me you thought of it five seconds before you propositioned me, I will deck you and leave you out in the rain for the Aurors to find."

I chuckled at his statement, the last part of which Remus told by his tone that it wasn't supposed to be taken entirely seriously, "While I don't doubt that you'd do exactly that, there's no worry of it. I'm not sure when I realised it, but I think the first time I acknowledged it was shortly after Rhiannon left you."

The only thing that filled the silence between us then was the sound of rain that still lingered, and my best mate's shock. I closed my eyes and waited him out, only without the measure of patience that he had displayed when waiting on me. Finally, though, there was a faint sound, and I turned again to look at him.

"Let me make certain I understood you clearly, Sirius," he said slowly. "You realised that you might have feelings for me beyond friendship after my fiancee dumped me, and we got so pissed that we both were suffering from hangover headaches for the next week that even the strongest remedies -wizarding **or** Muggle - couldn't put a dent in."

"Remus, do you remember what James used to say? That I had my best ideas when I was drunk off my arse?"

There was the beginnings of the snort of amusement that Remus had always made, and I started laughing full out. Before long, we both were, and had to stop to catch our breaths, remembering how things had been, and how things are now. I sighed.

"You were right, though. I did run. I don't think I had the inkling yet, when you kissed me at James' bachelor party, but it was definitely something I was trying to avoid thinking about. After the temptation to be the one kissing you, I was starting to think about not running anymore. Then everything went so wrong so fast, and I had no way of letting you know."

"Then there was those twelve years..."

"So, really," I concluded with a wry grin, "this is the first chance I had of letting you know that I had thought about it, and rather fancied the idea."

He chuckled at that, "So I see."

"How about you? Why did you kiss me at first?"

"At first I thought you were utterly daft, or at least too drunk to know what you were doing, when you asked me to dance that night. Then you convinced me, and I was drunk enough to let myself go enough to lean in and kiss you. Then you kissed back, and I thought perhaps there was a chance. Until you pulled away and looked horrified, shocked, and many more things than I could ever put words to. So I turned and walked away to regain my composure, as well as my dignity."

"I think James didn't stop gawking at us the entire night."

"It definitely was a shock for him, wasn't it?" Remus chuckled. "Honestly, though, Padfoot, that night was my one shot at trying to find out what you felt towards me. Once I thought I knew, I was going to be happy as your best mate, as I told you earlier. I wasn't going to give it another shot; I don't give my heart that easily. You know that."

I nodded, thinking about it. The entire time I had known Remus, which was amounting swiftly to nearly a lifetime, he had had only two girlfriends, both of them serious, and even a limited number of crushes. The more I thought on it, the more I knew the truth of the matter as well as he thought I did.

"The question I have for you now, Moony, is are you willing to give it another go?"

More silence met my question, and I nearly let out a groan of frustration, but then Remus rose from where he was seated and crossed to the window. He stared out at the weather for a long moment, before turning back to me. I felt as though I was on display for his eyes only, and could only think to catalogue all the imperfections that I had acquired since my tenure in Azkaban. I would have been better to make this move before then, but the opportunity was presenting itself now, not then, and so I had to make the best of it.

"Come, Padfoot. The rain has nearly stopped, and I think we can make it back to the house now. Then, we shall see."

A heated look from those eyes gave my body another glance, and he extended a hand to me. I accepted it, and he pulled me up against him in response, a mischievous gleam accompanying the look I had seen there only a moment before. Finally, what I had resisted all those years ago was before me right then and there, and I kissed him firmly.

After a moment, he parted his lips and allowed me inside, and I pressed his body between mine and the wall we were up against. The kiss lasted forever, and instead of me pulling away, this time it was he. In constrast also to the look I gave him then was the look he graced me with. A look of divine hunger such that I would be the one devoured by it. His lips curved into a smile.

"To the house, Padfoot. Then we finish this."

**~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

~End of Part 2~


	3. Passion and Promise

Part III: Passion and Promise

I'm not sure how, but we make it to the house. He allows me to go first, but I can feel that gaze devouring me with every step. It's like a caress that I want to go on, and yet... Yet, I have been waiting years for more than just this, and I'm going to take everything he's willing to give. Even if that means that I'd be the one taken.

Taken.

The image of him hovering over me, devouring me with his eyes before he slams that hard, thick cock into me drags a combination moan and growl from my throat, and I sprint for the house. I can hear Remus behind me, at that same pace, and I feel like I'm being stalked. Stalked by the wolf as well as by the man that I've known for a lifetime.

I can't say how much I'm looking forward to when he catches me.

I enter through the back door and make my way through the kitchen. Things are quiet, too quiet, and as I move into the living room, I look around for him. He's nowhere in sight, but when I turn back, he's there. Oh, yes, he's there. He has me pinned against the wall, his hands are in my hair and he's holding me in place while he devours my mouth as though he's starving.

Maybe he is. Maybe we both are.

I stop thinking then, and start acting; too much thinking had been what put this off as long as it has been. I tangle my tongue with his, and receive a growl as a reward. I reach out and run my hands down his back and to that arse, which I use to pull him tighter against me.

I feel the heat of his cock against me, and I arch into him, grinding against the hardness that matches my own. He tears his mouth away from my own then, and there's a look in his eyes that should scare me. That dangerously glittering look of the carnal nature that lies beneath the front of the tired, old professor. It should scare me, but it doesn't. It just turns me on more.

That's about the time those robes that I've been wearing since Azkaban are torn from my body and left in a heap on the floor. I look at him in surprise, and his lips twitch upward in a purely wicked smile. Then he tells me, "I've been wanting to do that since I first saw the bloody thing hanging on you. When we finish this, we'll burn it."

And as he then turned his attention to sucking and biting at my neck as though he is a vampire instead of a werewolf, I am in no mood to argue with his infinite wisdom. I, in fact, am in the mood to do nothing more than run my hands through his hair and submit to his dominance.

Then he takes a nipple roughly between his teeth and my hands are in his hair, determined to keep him right there. I can feel the heat of his cock against my thigh, and I move into him. He growls and grabs my arse, pulling me ever tighter against him as he lavishes equal attention on the other one. He seems content to stay there for the moment, and probably enjoying the fact that he's driving me utterly mad in the process.

As he starts to deliver bites along my ribcage, I stop him, panting out a "I'm too thin... don't do this..."

"You. Too thin. We'll see about that," he said in this sex-drenched voice that makes my cock twitch in the need for attention. Then he goes back to what he was doing before, taking a taste of each of the ribs that were so painfully present. "Oh, yes. Too thin. But nothing a little food and well-done exercise won't cure."

"What-- what sort of... exercise did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know," there's a teasing lick just above my navel then. "I'm sure there's some things you could do. Some of them you might find enjoyable."

"How enjoyable?"

"Oh, extremely," he says in a facade of calm, right before he surprises me again by sliding his tongue into my navel, and holds my hips so I can't move. At that point, feeling his tongue mime what we're probably going to be doing to each other soon is what sends what remains of my mind somewhere else, and reduces me to a moaning mass of pleasure.

My hands move out to touch him, and I find my hands swiftly pinned against the wall and frozen in place by the look he's giving me. Then he speaks, and I know I will do nothing but bow to whatever he wishes of me, just so long as he keeps talking to me like **that**.

"I have dreamed of this for many years, Sirius, and as such, I have only one wish; to do this as I have thought about. I have, perhaps, given this as much thought as you."

"Under one condition. Well, two really."

"They would be."

"One, that I get to return the favour," and then I look down at him and smile, "and two, that you stop this teasing and take my cock in your mouth before I explode."

"Patience, lover," he tells me, giving another flick of his tongue to my navel, and I let out a low groan, mingled with a stream of curses which manages to draw a chuckle from Remus, who was tracing his way closer to where I want his mouth. Patience? I know what patience is? Of course, saying that I know anything other than his mouth on my body, and the pleasure it's bringing is saying a lot.

Then he buries his face into the thatch of thick hair right above where I want him the most, and his fingers dig into my hips hard enough so that there will be bruises later. That's later, and not now, and all I care about is the sound of the growl that's coming from the throat, and if I wasn't already wasn't so turned on I couldn't see, then the growl would do it. Then that growl shapes itself into words. One word.

"Mine."

"Yes," I answer him. "Yours."

At that, his mouth leaves, and another stream of violent curses escape my lips, until I am silenced when it returns in an unexpected place. Along one hip, his tongue traces a pattern that only he understands before his teeth nip at the skin there. I groan and tilt my head back. Then there's a jolt of pain that only turns me on more, and there's a flurry of static in my head before I feel the soothing swipe of his tongue, stealing away question, and indeed, all thought.

Then that mouth -- oh that mouth -- is licking at the tip of my cock, and I'm arching up into the caress, just moments away from begging him to fuck my brains out. Then he starts sliding his mouth around me, and I groan, reaching out to hold him where he is. He takes that moment to slide my cock further into his mouth, and I groan as his tongue slides teasingly along the bottom.

He's taken me so deep my cock must be down his throat. Then he has to go prove my words by making a swallowing motion against me.

After that, my world narrows to my hands in his hair, holding him there, and his mouth around me. I reach the point where I'm just slamming my cock into him with no care for him, and no control, and I can almost feel him urging me onward, telling me to go ahead, slam my cock down his throat, and then it's all over when I explode, and momentarily black out.

When I come back, he's licking all remaining traces away. Then he sees me awake, and crawls up my body to whisper in my ear. I don't have my teenage vitality, but I can almost feel life returning when he whispers in my ear, "Do I need to tell you how good you taste, and how long I've wanted to feel you come in my mouth?"

I answer him by kissing him, and tasting myself on the inside of his mouth. He growls and kisses me back just as intently. I can feel still the heat of his cock against me, and I pull away enough to tell him, "I think you're overdressed for this."

"So I am," and I see a smirk on those lips. "Tell you what, Sirius," and his voice had dropped into a growl of insinuation, "I'll go more properly attire myself for the coming event, if I find you waiting for me on your knees. I assure you, lover, you will enjoy it."

Almost as soon as he says that, he's gone, and I'm scrambling onto my knees and waiting. The cool air of the house wafted over my skin, drying the sweat soothingly while my nerves stretched to the breaking point while waiting for him. Then there landed a pillow next to my head, and I angled my head so I could see the naked wizard hovering over me.

"Put that under your knees. It will help. I did have every intention of bending you over my bed when I took you, but as it so happened, we didn't make it that far, so this will have to do."

"We could still..."

"I know," and that smile is evident in his voice. "The problem is that I'm just not patient enough to make it to the bed. There's just something I have to do."

Before I can even ask him what it is he has to do, I know. He's on his knees behind me, tracing lovebites up and down my spine. Just enough to tease, to torment, and to get me panting out gibberish just so he'll keep doing what he's doing. There's a bite at the nape of my neck, and I can feel his hard cock pressed up against my arse, and I arch up and back into him. I can hear a low growl start at that, and so I do it again.

He lets go of my neck at that, and that growl rumbles forth in his voice, "Don't try me, Sirius, or you won't get what you want."

"What do I want?"

"Well, judging from your actions, **lover** , I'd say you want me shoved in your arse so far that you can feel me in your throat."

I can't argue with that, and at the sound of the words, I can feel myself harden further; I didn't think it was possible, but apparently I was wrong. Then I feel what has to be the most peculiar sensation I've ever felt in my life. If you've never had someone licking at your arsehole as though it's something to be devoured, it's definitely something to be experienced.

Particularly when that someone starts jabbing his tongue into you like it's a miniature cock.

I know I'm groaning constantly and maneuvering to get more of that, and deeper. Distantly I hear him telling me to relax, that it'll be better, and I do my best to obey. For my obedience, I am rewarded by pleasure so intense that I didn't even know it had existed before now. I moan, groan, utter complete gibberish that contains phrases of my eternal devotion to him, pleas for him to stop fucking around and just fuck me, his name and all deities that I've ever asked assistance from all jumbled together.

Deep within my head, then, I hear something about patience. That tone that's mingled mischief and seriousness, and a few other things that I'm not even thinking of right now because I have now lost all ability **to** think. Then I hear a summoning command uttered in a voice that's like sex-roughened honey, and he's leaning over me again to mutter in my ear a question. I think he wants to know if I'm ready, if I'm sure, and all I want him to do is to stop being such a fucking tease and slam into me.

Then he does, and it's hard and hot and slick. It hurts at first, and I pant through the pain for a few minutes, and he slides the rest of the way into me. He rotates his hips slightly, oh-so-slightly, and there's a burst of pleasure like when he had his tongue inside me. I thank Merlin for lovers with talented tongues and cocks and minds that are the ultimate turn-on except for times like now when I can't bloody well think anymore and I scream inside my head for him to move already, and with that command that he shouldn't have even been able to hear, he does.

He starts with slow, deep thrusts that are so slow that it drives me mad and my hands are scrabbling for purchase on his hard wood floor. Then the thrusts speed, and he's not going as deep as hard, and then it's short, staccato thrusts and him leaning into me, placing more lovebites on my back and shoulder and I just can't think anymore because I'm arching into him, and I'm so hard it hurts, and then his hand reaches around and grasps my cock and jerks once, twice, and then I'm screaming and I'm coming and I think I'm seeing my namesake because there are definitely stars in front of my eyes.

Shortly after, I feel the sharp pain of his teeth biting into my shoulder to muffle a scream as he comes; it's not enough to draw blood, but it's enough to bring out the pleasure more, and then he's collapsed on top of me, and we're both collapsed on the floor we just got finished making a mess out of.

Not that I could care at the moment.

Things aren't so clear, and they're kind of fuzzy for a while, actually, but I do let out a whimper as he slips out of me. I roll over then, and he curls against me before letting out a yawn.

I crack open an eye, "So you are the sort to fall asleep after sex, then?"

"Not usually," he grins. "But with the workout we've just given each other, I think I could sleep for a while before waking up and starting over again. Seventeen years is a bloody long time to have this kind of sexual frustration, Sirius."

"Mmhmm," I agree sleepily. "You know, Remus..."

"I know," he grins.

"And I wouldn't mind..."

"I know that too."

I laugh, then, but it's a tired laugh. He tilts his head, and a few strands of silvered brown hair fall into his face. He snorts at it, before reaching out for his wand to perform a cleansing charm. However, as I'm in the process of falling asleep, I could care less.

At least until he lifts me into his arms like I'm a bride and he's carrying me over the threshold.

"I guess we know now who the woman in this relationship is going to be," I tease tiredly.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

I laugh, and he carries me into the bedroom where he drops me on the bed. I'm the one yawning then, and then as he slips into the bed with me, I start to drift off. However, just before I totally fall asleep, I can hear him murmur something mischievously to me.

"Be sure to get plenty of rest, Sirius. Because you do know the rumours about the werewolf stamina? They're all true..."

Too bad I fall asleep before I can answer him.

Eh, I'll tell him when I wake up.

**~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

~end~


End file.
